


Something of an Accident

by notmadderred



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [7]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmadderred/pseuds/notmadderred
Summary: Grif wasn’t big on panicking.He was sort of panicking right now.Grey had walked in and told him in that far-too chipper tone of hers that she’dfucking injected him with a truth serum.“Top five fears, right before bats,” he was saying to himself, but not meaning to say to himself. Fucking hell. “Snakes are fine. Not afraid of snakes.”Okay, since he couldn’t stop himself from talking, he’d just have to avoid everyone.For a week.Grey was smart. When she said a week, she probably meant, like, a day. “She definitely didn't.”A Fed soldier gave him a weird look.





	Something of an Accident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_taller_tale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_taller_tale/gifts).



> Lots of requests for this one. I wrote it at three in the morning. Enjoy ;)

It had been an honest mistake.

In retrospect, Grey could put the blame on Farrell. But in putting the blame on Farrell, she was also putting the blame on herself -- she took Farrell under her wing, after all, and the only reason the mistake had come to fruition was because Farrell was scared of her.

Rightfully so. Even still, it was a tad inconvenient.

She sighed as she scrubbed at her hands, turning around potential ways to break the news.

At least it hadn’t been something fatal. She should mention that.

Well, she should have noted the subtle difference before injection. In the end, the mistake would always circle back to her.

She started humming “Think of Me” to even her thoughts.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have kept her experiments so close to the painkillers. 

The root of the problem was that Grey was doing experiments, but she’d needed some way to pass the time and work her mind! Sitting idly was never an option -- she _needed_ to work, needed to come up with her medicines and machines and methods and… other things.

Grey lifted her chin, dried her hands off entirely, and strolled to Grif’s recovery room.

He was just waking up as she walked in, meaning her timing had been as impeccable as always. “Hello, Captain Grif!” she said, tilting her head and smiling beneath her helmet.

The surgery hadn’t been too intrusive -- she’d fixed all the musculocutaneous nerve endings, easy as pie! And, of course, gave him the actual painkillers once she realized her mistake.

He blinked, slow and long, before finally seeming to register her presence. “Oh. Hey, Doc. Y’know, I think you’re pretty fuckin’ terrifying.”

He blinked again, this time more rapidly. “I… didn't mean to say that.”

“Ah, yes,” she said. She knew she was terrifying, so his comment didn't faze her. “You were accidentally injected with… well, with what essentially equates to a truth serum. I’m working on a cure now and imagine it’ll be finished by the end of the week. Don’t worry, Captain -- you’re my number one priority!”

His face contorted. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he said.

\----

Grif wasn’t big on panicking. 

He was sort of panicking right now.

Grey had walked in and told him in that far-too chipper tone of hers that she’d _fucking injected him with a truth serum_.

“Top five fears, right before bats,” he was saying to himself, but not meaning to say to himself. Fucking hell. “Snakes are fine. Not afraid of snakes.”

Okay, since he couldn’t stop himself from talking, he’d just have to avoid everyone.

For a week.

Grey was smart. When she said a week, she probably meant, like, a day. “She definitely didn't.”

A Fed soldier gave him a weird look.

He immediately skirted to the staircase, which was empty on most days because they had several perfectly functional elevators and elevator-adjacent options and therefore ideal for avoiding people but a bitch to climb because he didn't like exercise but he didn't like exercise because of reasons unrelated to the exercise itself.

Grif really wasn’t liking this.

He sat down on the stairs, put his face in his hands, and groaned.

“Woah -- was Dr. Grey that bad?”

Of fucking course Tucker would be here. “My arm is perfectly fine because Dr. Grey is amazing as a doctor but also I’m losing my absolute fucking mind right now and can’t shut the fuck up oh God it’s horrible.”

Tucker stared at him for a moment. Then, “Dude, what the fuck is happening?”

“She injected me with an experimental truth serum and now I can’t stop talking but everything I talk about it true which I don’t like because I don’t wanna be vulnerable please fucking interrupt me because otherwise I’ll start talking about--”

“Interrupted!” said Tucker, lifting his hands as he wore a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, sorry. That sucks, man. Well, uh… when’s it supposed to wear off?”

Grif moaned. “It _won’t_. Dr. Grey has to make a _cure_ , and she said that she’ll have it done by the end of the week but what the fuck am I supposed to do in the meantime just avoid everyone? because that’s what I’m planning so far good fucking God I share a room with Simmons how the hell am I supposed to share a room with him when I--”

“I’m interrupting you again,” said Tucker.

“Thank you,” said Grif. “You know, you’ve grown a lot as a person in the past couple of years and I really respect that and you’re actually a really good dad and I appreciate that you aren’t trying to take advantage of my situation which I feel like you would’ve done a long time ago but like I just said--”

“Thanks! Stop talking! But thank you!” Tucker actually sounded flustered. It occurred to Grif that he never complimented anyone. Ever. In fact, none of the Reds and Blues really did, so everything he just told Tucker was pretty uncomfortable even though it was nice. They didn't talk about feelings. They didn't address character growth. It just sorta happened.

“I’m so fucked,” he said. 

Tucker hummed in what was probably affirmation.

“Okay, maybe it’s not so bad that of all the people to find me sulking in the staircase it’s you seeing as you’re currently undergoing some serious moral development that’s been very--”

“Grif, shut the fuck up before I punch you in the face.”

“I can tell you’re flattered.”

“Yeah, I am, but this is still fucking awkward!”

“And I’m acutely aware of that fact but I can’t stop! Next thing I know I’ll start talking about my fucking family and oh fuck now I’m thinking about--”

“GRIF STOP TALKING.”

“UM, WHAT ARE WE YELLING ABOUT I LIKE YELLING.”

“I got injected with a truth serum,” Grif said. “I really don’t want to talk.”

“Oh!” Caboose looked to Tucker, curiosity evident in his eyes. “Um, we can play the silent game. I am very good at that. Maybe you can beat me!”

“I highly doubt that,” said Grif, “considering the fact that even when I was by myself, I was talking. I looked like an idiot.”

“I talk to myself sometimes,” said Caboose.

“Yeah, well, you’re Caboose. Everyone will love you no matter what you do. You killed Church, and he still loves you.” Stop. Talking. _Dammit_. “You ran me over with a tank, and I still care about you.”

Caboose’s eyes widened. “That is very nice, Griff!”

“I can hear the second ‘f’ when you say that, Caboose. It only has one.”

“Oh.”

Caboose blinked again, and Grif was almost inclined to believe he was in the clear. “I hope Kai’s still alive,” Grif said. “Fuck,” came immediately after.

“Who’s-- wait, nevermind, you don’t need to answer that,” said Tucker.

“My sister,” Grif continued. “Kaikaina. I miss her. She’s really independent, too, but even more than me, so I’m not sure if she actually misses me or if she says shit like that to make me feel better but we don’t usually do things to make each other feel better seeing as we grew up in a home that didn't exactly promote great family life--”

“You know what! Caboose and I are going to leave you alone. So you don’t. Keep. That.”

This was bad. This was very bad. He’d just fucking told Tucker that--

It was fine. He didn't say much. He just implied things which was still bad because he never even did that oh fuck he hated not having control he needed control he couldn’t live without it _shit_

He was starting to shake.

“Unless you’d rather we stay or--”

“I’d really rather not have anyone around me so I don’t accidentally say more shit that I don’t want to.”

Tucker’s mouth formed a thin line before he gave Grif a short nod, grabbed Caboose by the elbow, and walked away.

Fuck. _Fuck._

Grif raked a hand through his hair.

Then he stood up and started going up the stairs.

\----

Going to the seventh floor really wasn’t that much of a hike, but he was still breathless when he got to the landing. He would like to blame it on the workout. It was probably mostly because of his panic.

He just needed to get in his room and lock the door. No one had to hear anything else from him. When Simmons tried to come in, he’d yell at him through the door to leave and find someone else to spend the night with.

Okay.

Okay. He had a plan. He didn't like plans but he needed one because otherwise he’d say something stupid he couldn’t take back.

Thoughts kept swirling to the surface of his mind, some things he hadn’t thought about in years. He released many of them in mutters as he blazed through the hallways in a beeline toward his door. “I forged my mom’s signature on every report card I ever got. I failed out of science on purpose. I wasn’t actually drafted. I care what other people think about me even though I try not to and pretend that I don’t.” He was hoping that saying everything now would lower his chances of accidentally spilling something in front of other people. Somehow, he doubted it would actually help.

He got to his door.

“Thank _God_ ,” he said and threw it open.

Simmons, sitting crosslegged on his bed, hair ruffled and datapad in his hands, looked up.

It felt like a dam broke when Simmons’ eyes met his.

“I really like your eyes your cryborg one makes you look badass but you’re badass and a nerd which is honestly a fucking fantastic combination even though I always make fun of you for being a nerd nerds are my type and Kai made fun of me for this immediately after meeting y--”

“What the fuck,” said Simmons, fixing Grif with a blank stare. Grif could see the moment he processed Grif’s words, as his cheeks turned pink and his eyes widened slightly. “What the _fuck_? Are you drunk? Are you _okay?_ Wait, you just got out of surgery. I thought Grey said the medicine wouldn’t make you loopy.”

He was sweating. His heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest. Oh no. Please, no. “I just went up seven flights of stairs to avoid people because I can’t shut up and I didn't expect you to be in the room and I wanted you to leave but I also don’t want you to leave because I like having you around and--”

Simmons stood up, his brows furrowed. He strolled over to Grif and examined his face, putting one hand on his shoulder. “Seriously, are you okay? Should you even be up and walking?”

“I do miss Kai I hope she misses me and I hope she’s alive she liked you neither of us liked our parents because they were assholes and abusive and” no no _no_ please _stop_ “I told Kai our mom joined the circus but she went to jail for killing our dad and I wasn’t sad because he was a dick but she also did it in front of me and she was somehow worse and I couldn’t tell anything to Kai because she’s younger and she knows Mom’s a bitch but she doesn’t know the actual reasons why” He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t make himself _stop_ and the effort of trying to do so was making his chest hurt and he was pretty sure he was crying fuck _fuck_ “so I had to raise her and I’m scared she’s dead because she’s so amazing and I’m proud of her even though I never told her that and--”

Simmons, who had been standing in front of him going through varying stages of shock, clenched his jaw in some resolute gesture. 

Then he pulled Grif against him and _hugged_ him.

Grif was still shaking. He couldn’t lift his arms to hug back. He wanted to. He desperately wanted to. “I can’t stop,” he said. It came out pleading. “I can’t stop fucking talking ever since I saw you I can’t because Grey gave me an experimental truth serum on accident and I still can’t shut up and I keep trying and it hurts and I think I’m panicking and I hate being vulnerable and--”

Simmons pulled back. “Grif, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Do you understand me?”

His gut twisted. “I understand you.”

“Do you know of anything that can help? Do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t think anything helps and I-- I don’t want you to leave-- I mean I _don’t_ \-- fuck I can’t even--”

Simmons glanced frantically to the space behind Grif before meeting his gaze again. “Grif-- I--” His features twisted and he made a frustrated noise. “I’m sorry, I don’t--”

“--Know what to do I know and I understand because this is a bad situation and I hate it and I’m--” his whole body seized as he tried to hold back, tried gritting his teeth and fighting this “-- in love with you. Oh fuck I’m sorry I tried not to I really need to leave oh shit everything’s ruined I’m totally fucked I’m just going to--”

He turned on his heel to scramble away, to avoid facing the consequences of the words he’s just spoken.

He’d ruined _everything_. All because of a stupid fucking truth serum, he’d ruined everything he and Simmons had built up, had destroyed himself completely.

This was it -- everything he’d tried to avoid. He should have walked out of the room the second he saw Simmons in there. He should have--

Simmons grabbed his hand and pulled him back. 

Grif could tell his fear was on his face. At this point, he couldn’t stop it. He’d already spoken the words, couldn’t help but speak those words to _Simmons_ who was looking at him and Grif couldn’t tell what he was thinking and he used to always know what Simmons was thinking--

“Grif, I’m-- fuck, I’m sorry this is happening to you, and, uh--” Simmons shook his head, the grip on his hand tightening, “I-- I love you, too. Um-- I, uh, can’t say I expected to-- to tell you like this, but I need you to know th- that it’s okay! Um, shit, not _okay_ , it’s-- it’s _good_. Uh, yeah. So, that’s. Um. A thing that just happened.”

Grif blinked. “What?” he said, his mind drawing up a near-complete blank.

Simmons’ neck and ears turned red. “I’ll-- I’ll see what I can find out about Kai. And, um, check on Grey’s progress for the cure. We can-- um-- talk. When you’re cured. So you, uh, don’t have to worry about telling me anything you don’t want to because I don’t want to put that pressure on you.” He inhaled, blowing up his cheeks like a chipmunk as he held in the air. After a moment, he released it. “Uh, right. I-- I can stay with either Sarge or Donut until that’s figured out. So… yeah.”

Grif blinked again. 

Simmons dropped his hand. Grif watched it ago. “Huh,” he said.

When he looked back up, Simmons offered him a hesitant smile. “Of course it’d be like this.”

Grif still felt stunned. Words, which were pouring from his mouth only moments before, were impossible to find. He swallowed. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Well,” Simmons said, shifting uncomfortably, “at least you aren’t rambling anymore.”

Normally, he’d make a demeaning quip back. “For now,” he said.

Simmons bit his lip. “Um, okay. I’m gonna… go.” Then, in a motion so quick Grif barely registered it happening, Simmons leaned onto his toes and planted a light kiss on Grif’s forehead.

Blankly, Grif brought a hand to the spot Simmons touched as the man shut the door behind him.

Alone in the room, he opened his mouth.

He found he had nothing to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Achievement unlocked: Dexter Grif family drama and angst.
> 
> Also check out this absolutely fucking amazing [comic](https://bitsby.tumblr.com/post/186397415002/so-rather-than-sleeping-i-decided-to-do-this) inspired by this work and drawn up by the brilliant [bitsby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsby/) who I fucking adore <3


End file.
